I’m 38 weeks pregnant and it’s a stagnant 96 degrees outside. So, yes, I’m sitting on the floor of our half-finished nursery at 1:24 pm eating
from a quart of Sweet Cow cookies and cream.
I am blessed. I know this. I feel AWESOME. I can eat, sleep, exercise, socialize. Two weeks ago I measured at almost 2 cm, and I’m still there. Nary a contraction. Chandler is as active as mama (and papa), kicking and squirming and hiccuping all day and night. I want this week, or maybe the next two, to go on forever. Every day, I am aware of how easy life is right now. I can hike, go to yoga, go shopping, make phone calls, even work. Eric can go for a 28 mile trail run on a Sunday. (Not kidding, see below.)
Things are going to change. For the best, ever. We know that. But for now, Eric really enjoys getting up at 3:30am to go to the mountains instead of to feed a baby. And I really enjoy doing whatever I want whenever I feel like it. But I think Chandler knows that. The three of us are going to make the most of these next, last couple of weeks. Selfish? Maybe. Sane? I think so!